An Old Reflection
by InkyStardust
Summary: Dan ends up having a conversation with a younger version of himself, and he tells him about the wonderful years ahead of him, and how everything will be alright in the future.


Danny stood still in the middle of the stage, gazing at the gigantic crowd before him as vivid, bright stage lights glimmered in his hazel eyes. There were _so many people_ … thousands upon thousands of tightly-packed bobbing heads and waving arms, like millions of tiny moving dots meticulously stippled on canvas in an elegant pointillist painting. Thousands of joyful voices shouting and applauding, their words and cheers all blending together into one huge glorious roar that charged the concert hall with thrilling electricity, making the ground rumble beneath people's feet. Adrenaline surged through his blood. Time seemed to be moving so slowly, like he was experiencing this moment in slow-motion.

This was such a surreal feeling, it felt unreal. But it _was_ real, and that's what boggled his mind so much.

This was real. This was happening. His wildest dreams were coming to life right before him.

He felt as though there were dozens of fireworks exploding inside of his chest; he'd never felt such an intense feeling of happiness within him at one moment until now. Staring out at the crowd, hearing them cheer for him… he shut his eyes to bask in the marvelous moment, to listen to the crowd and let the roars of his fans flood into his ears. He took in a deep breath through his nose, and as he went to exhale, the crowd had just… stopped. Completely, abruptly stopped. As though he had just went deaf or something. All at once, the electric feeling had left; it felt like the entire environment around him had drastically changed. Startled by the sudden change, he snapped his eyes wide open. There was no crowd. No stage lights. No one. In fact, he was no longer in the concert hall, no longer standing on a stage. He was in a room of some sort. Dan's eyes darted frantically around to survey his surroundings.

Piles of clothes littered the white carpet. Dozens of posters, jerseys, and helmets of the New York Giants hung on blue walls, some placed on wooden dressers or in glass cases, if they were important enough. A bed lay in a corner of the tiny room. It was a bit messy, but thankfully, no one was laying in it. This room, it was… familiar. Extremely familiar. And for a few seconds, Dan boggled his mind trying to remember what felt so familiar about it. Then it hit him. A feeling of nostalgia rushed through Dan's body, tingling under his skin. A cold chill ran ran through him, lingering in his bones. This was the bedroom from his old apartment, from college.

A memory flashed in his mind; he recalled lying in that bed for many, many nights, staring blankly up at the ceiling, and rarely ever finding the mental strength to leave his apartment for a few months. Depression. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. These were the reasons for it. A small knot formed in his stomach at the memory of those few shitty months.

He looked down at his clothes and body to see if he had changed in any way. The sparkly, glittery blue jumpsuit that he was wearing during the concert was replaced with his normal, everyday street clothes: jeans, a grey t-shirt, his leather jacket, and those ugly grey sneakers that everyone hated. He wrinkled his forehead slightly, wondering how and why, but especially how, his clothes had changed, but decided that that was the least of his worries at the moment. He started walking around the room, stepping over clothes, tracing his fingers along the walls. As he approached his old dresser, he delicately picked up a few random items and examined them, having memories come back to him in sudden rushes- his old watch, his flip-phone, his favorite coffee mug, some fantasy novels, a few Rush CDs- and gently put them back down afterwards. It made him chuckle, looking at all of these old things, recalling some of the good old days, or funny memories that they held. He couldn't help but smile as a lovely warm feeling sprouted in his chest, and spread all over him.

Dan went to turn around and go look at a few other things when a blue spiral notebook, lying on the dresser, caught his eye. He picked it up, and flipped through a few pages and stopped on one that had a lot of writing on it. He began skimming through the handwriting, and beamed brightly when the realization came over him. This was his old lyric book. He'd written down tons and tons of songs and lyrics in it. He remembered those late nights where he'd stay up all night in his bed with only his bedside lamp as a source for light, scribbling down lyrics in pen, crossing certain words or sections out and replacing them with better ones. His eyes ran across the page, scrutinizing the sloppily-written lyrics that would later become one of his personal favorite Skyhill songs.

"Who are you?"

His heart practically exploded out of his chest at the sudden voice that broke the calming silence of the room. Dan quickly closed the book and spun around to face the sound of the voice. He saw someone standing in the doorway, wearing a black Rush t-shirt and jeans. It was… himself. The mid-twenties, short-haired, stoner version of himself, staring with fearful wide eyes at him.

Dan would've replied, if he knew what to say. But he didn't. For one, he couldn't believe that he was staring at a younger version of himself. And even if could believe it, how would he get the younger Dan to? It's not like he could just say, 'Hey! I'm you from the future!' and actually expect him to believe it. So, he would blankly stare at his younger self for a quick moment, before deciding that the only real choice he had was to try and convince him of it.

"I'm… you… from the... future?..." he said quietly, but in a tone that implied that he was asking a question rather than answering one. He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows a bit, hoping that he'd believe him, but also expecting some sort of negative reaction.

The younger Dan wrinkled his forehead and furrowed his brows confusedly. He opened his mouth to reply, but instead tilted his head and scrutinized the older man's facial features. He did seem to resemble him a lot, and he still had the same lanky figure as he did.

"You're joking… right?" the younger Dan asked, stepping inside the room towards his older self.

"I mean, you do look like me, like an older version of me. But I have to be dreaming." The short-haired Dan ran a hand through his brown hair. "Like, there's no way that this is real."

Real.

Dan hadn't even thought about whether this was all real or not. I mean, it couldn't be, right? This _had_ to be a dream! Time travel isn't possible, it's impossible to be able to talk to yourself from a different time, right? But it all felt so real; it didn't feel like a dream. But it had to be. Was he still standing on stage in reality? And if so, what was he doing in all this time? Was time stopped in his reality?

… Was _this_ his reality?

No, that's impossible. Maybe this isn't a dream, but this certainly isn't real. And that was all he could wrap his head around at that moment. None of that had occurred to him until now.

"Okay," Dan began, lightly tossing the notebook onto the bed beside him. "I know this is probably- well," he did that cute thing where his eyes widen a little bit, and his shoulders lift some, as he averted his gaze to avoid awkwardness, "it _is_ , pretty hard to believe. I can imagine that." He looked back up at him. "But you have to believe me, I really am from the future." Dan figured that his younger self would believe him more if he sounded confident in what he was saying, even if he wasn't absolutely sure of it, himself.

The younger Dan would just sort of stare at him for a while, looking him up and down, taking note of every small detail of him. "I kinda believe you. I want to." He walked up to the older Dan, and cautiously poked his chest. Then his arm, then his face, and a few other places on his body. The older Dan raised an eyebrow in bewilderment.

"So, you're tangible, at least." young Dan said, laughing nervously and taking a step back now. "J-Just to be sure, though- uh, tell me, like, a secret, or something that only I know about right now."

"Alright," the tall one responded with hesitance. He took a short moment to think of something, then snickered to himself a little bit. "Okay," he began, scratching his head and messing with his hair while smiling.

"You- err, I, broke my- your- whatever, you know what I mean- you broke your neck trying to suck your own dick a few years back." He could barely finish the sentence before he erupted into giddy laughter, his cheeks rising and his eyes squinting from laughing so hard.

The younger Dan's eyes widened; his face was immediately drained of its color and left pale with utter shock.

"And after you recovered from it, you tried it again, and you broke your neck again!" Dan said between chuckles, snorts, and squeals, doubled over in laughter.

By now, the shorter-haired Dan's mouth hung gaping open in disbelief and embarrassment, but mainly the latter.

The taller of the two forced himself to calm down his laughing fit. He had to take a few breaths to regain his composure, though he still had a big goofy grin on his face. "Okay, do you believe me now?"

All the younger Dan could do was slowly nod his head, his mouth still hanging open, staring with widened eyes. "Yeah... You're definitely future me. I haven't told anyone about that."

"Yet." The older Dan finished, his smile stretching farther across his face. "You will, in the future.

"I will?" the short-haired one asked, perking up. "Oh, my God, I actually tell someone about that?!"

"Yup!" replied older Dan, snickering a little bit. "In fact, you tell a lot of people."

"How… many people?" young Dan asked, curiously.

"Uhh, just a few million." the large-haired one responded in a sly, nonchalant tone. He watched as his younger self freaked out, laughing a bit at his reaction. This is gonna be an interesting talk.


End file.
